


What's up, buttercup?

by jarediscronchtastic



Series: o n e s h o t s [3]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor is a spoiled brat, Crushes!, Florist AU, Florist!Connor, M/M, because he's nice here, both are very gay, but it's ok, fluff!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16030739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarediscronchtastic/pseuds/jarediscronchtastic
Summary: Florist AU!  Of course, I'm totally obsessed with AUs... You guessed it, Connor works at a flower shop!I know the obvious path was florist!Evan, but this seemed like a cute idea.Prompt from Jeremy, one of MY best buds (love ya, dude): how about a flowershop AU? between connor and evan??





	What's up, buttercup?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isTrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isTrash/gifts).



I can't believe that for one whole fucking summer I have to  _ work _ .  

 

Okay, I sound like a brat,  _ whatever _ .  So what if I'm not used to earning money?  Every year up until now it's been summer camp and traveling.  Now, my parents had the fucking genius idea for me to  _ work _ .  And  _ here _ of all places! 

 

Apparently, if I work, it'll help me be prepared for college, which is stupid.   _ What does that even mean? _

 

So, every day working at this god-awful flower shop, I'm stuck with fucking tulips and roses and chrysanthe-whatevers for  _ two _ . _  Whole _ .   _ Months _ .

 

I'm not even sure why I'm  _ here _ .  I could just have easily been working in an ice cream truck like Zoe is (only three hours a day which is fucking unfair!), or maybe even as a waiter.  No, not a waiter. That's dumb. Waiters are only college kids who need to pay their student loans. 

 

Completely bored, I pull out a magazine from under the counter, flipping open to a random page.  It's complete trash, but it's better than staring into blank space waiting for a customer to arrive at,  _ what's this place called?  Oh, right-  _ ‘Best Buds’.  How fucking lame is that?

 

The next page has a picture of a half-naked woman advertising perfume.   _ Yeah, no thanks _ .  I shut the magazine, chucking it to the side, and close my eyes.  

 

A minute later, the doorbell jangles, and a timid-looking boy about my age steps in.

 

“H-hello?”

 

Groaning, I plant my elbows on the wooden counter, resting my face in my palms.  “What's up, buttercup?” I ask in a monotonous voice, then cringe. (A month of flowers turned me into  _ this _ . Help me, God.)

 

He chuckles, this admittedly adorable little laugh, and gives me a little shrug.

 

Looking down, I notice his (left, right, whatever) arm is covered in a white cast.  (Yeah, okay, it's his left.)

 

“Wha’ appened?” I drawl, gesturing to the arm.  

 

For a brief second, a look of panic flashed across his face, then he offers me a weak smile.  “I, uh, well, funny story, I um, I was climbing a tree and, uh, I fell?”

 

I can't help the burst of laughter emerging from my mouth.  “That's so fucking sad, dude!”  _ On the other hand, I'm working in a fucking flower shop, I think he actually has it better off than I do! _

 

The boy tries to laugh along, but I can tell he's uncomfortable, making me feel a tiny bit sorry for my reaction.  Just a tiny bit. I'm not pathetic. 

 

“So, flowers, who're they for? Girlfriend?”

 

“Girlfriend?!” He echoes incredulously. 

 

I raise an eyebrow, suddenly interested, leaning over the counter.  “A  _ boyfriend _ , then?”

 

A blush coats his-  _ wow, okay, yeah, he's really cute! _ \- adorable face, and he shakes his head, waving his hands in front of his face.  “Oh! No, no, no, I mean, I- no, not a boyfriend, I, yeah, no!”

 

“Hm.” Is all I can think to say.

 

“It's… it's for someone I think I have a crush on,” he mumbles, suddenly looking away.

 

“Okay, I'll bite, who's the mystery person?”   _ His eyes are really pretty _ .  Hardly even realising what I’m doing, I lean further over the counter, playing with my hair the way I’ve seen Zoe do around people she tries to flirt with.   _ Wait, I shouldn’t be flirting! _  I drop my hand.

 

He gets a tiny smile on his face.  “Just, just someone I've seen around.  They, uh, they work at this, uh, this one place, I've never gotten the courage to go in, to actually meet them, but they always look so peaceful.  I guess I like people who intrigue me… is that weird? That's totally weird.”

 

“It's not weird at all,” I say, but not really listening.   _ I wonder if his hair feels as soft as it looks _ .

 

“Oh! I'm Evan, by the way…”

 

“Mhm.”   _ Wait- what did he say?  Fuck _ .  “Sorry, what?”

 

He giggles and gives me a grin.  “My name is Evan.”

 

_ Evan _ … “I'm Connor.”

 

Evan nods happily.  “Ah, nice to meet you, Connor!”

 

_ Focus, focus, you got a job!  Besides, any longer he's here I'm gonna get a fucking boner I swear _ .  “Ahem- ah, flowers?”

 

“Right!”  Evan reaches into his pocket, pulling out a wallet.  “How much is… a single rose?”

 

I furrow my eyebrows.  “Just… one rose?”

 

He nods.

 

“O-kay…”. Bewildered, I walk around from behind the counter towards the roses.  “Any particular colour?”

 

“Red.” Comes my immediate answer.

 

_ Of course.  A single red rose.  Fucking romantic. Whoever Evan has a crush on is hella lucky-- NO STOP!  Stop being jealous! He's a customer! Cus-to-mer! We do NOT form any sort of relationships with customers! _

 

I select a nice-looking flower, carefully wrapping it in paper.  

 

“Alright, that'll be a dollar.”  I place it on the counter, then place a ribbon around it, sliding on a tag, then tying off the bow.  “And who do I make it out to?”

 

Evan gets this embarrassed little look on his face, turning pink again, sliding the dollar on the counter towards me.  “Connor.”

 

_ I- wh- wait- I- hold up- I- HUH?! _

 

I halt, pen poised above the paper tag, staring at him.  “Wh-”

 

Before I can even  _ try  _ to formulate a sentence, Evan picks up the flower, and carefully snaps the rose off of its stem, and places it behind my ear.

 

_ I- oh _ .   _ Oh my god _ …

 

Finally, I come back to my senses, and grab a Sharpie from the little mug on the counter (reading: ‘2013 Orchid Fair’), and scribble down my number on his cast, adding a heart and a smiley face.  

 

Evan smiles broadly down at the cast, then back at me.  “I- I'll call you later, then!”

 

He waves the now-just-a-stem at me as he literally skips out the door. 

 

I reach up a hand in disbelief to gently touch the flower.   _ Holy fuck.  I think I'm in love _ .

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHHH I CAN'T WRITE FLUFF PROPERLY SORRYYYYY


End file.
